bodyguard ; kth

14 ; midnight punch

"i found you, pretty boy."

gun spoke with a slight smirk on his lips. i placed my apple onto the counter, keeping the knife in my other hand. slowly, i rose from the kitchen stool. he glared at me with anger as i stood there.

"you think you're so smart," the male mockingly stated. i tilted my head to the side. he scoffed, continuing to say, "you think you can just take aera all to yourself?" i stayed quiet. his voice started getting louder, "you think you can just fucking take her away from her?" he slowly took steps towards me, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white.

i didn't reply. he stepped closer and smiled slightly, "well, guess what? you're just a stinkin' son of a bitch who doesn't know shit...and what you did..leaving us there, takin' aera all for yourself.." he was now close enough.

in an instant, he flew his fist towards me. i dodged to the side in one fluid motion, looking at him.

"stop," i said in a low tone. gun had a menacing blaze in his eyes, he charged again with a mighty cry. once again, his agile movements were too slow. i kicked him from behind the knees, making him fall to the ground. i turned his body so he was laying on his back, then i grabbed his hair and punched him in the jaw. he cried of agony as his mouth started bleeding.

i let go, stepping out while being slightly out of breath.

"you should know why i did what i did. that club was dangerous and i had to get her away," i spoke slowly, nearly whispering at him. gun slowly stumbled upright, wiping his mouth.

"you remember what I told you?"

my mind suddenly flashed back to the first day i met him. i remember him telling me, "you're just a back up bodyguard, the only person she needs is me. if i see you touch her again, i'll break you."

i looked at him, saying, "look, this isn't about us. this is about aera. it doesn't matter who gets her because we both need to protect her. that's no question."

he stayed silent, looking back at me. i knew he was thinking about something but wasn't telling me.

"i know you don't trust me, i get that. just..trust me when i say this..you might love her but i know how to protect her. i don't like her that way so you don't have to worry," i spoke.

gun seemed to find something funny, he laughed at me. soon, his smile was replaced by a growl, "you really don't get it, do you? aera, she..she..fucking likes you."

i blinked.

'what?' i thought, suddenly forgetting how to breath. she likes me? the thought bounced around in my head.

"she told me. every minute of every fucking day she goes about you. about how your hair is cute, how you wants to see you smile. how nice you are..i'm fucking sick of it!" he yelled. blood started dripping from his nose, but he didn't seem to care.

"but..theres' no way in hell am i letting her be with you. she might not realise it..but i know..i know fucked up you are..i know what kind of sick bastard you really are!" he shouted louder, nearly shaking the room.

"don't yell, there's people sleeping," i said under my breath, starting to grow angry at the tall figure.

"but you know what? she's never going to find out," he growled, reaching for a butter knife placed on the table beside him. he gripped onto the handle, pointing it towards me. the shiny blade in his hands reflected the overhead kitchen lights.

i eyed the weapon with disbelieving eyes.

'wow, he really wants to kill me. how funny,' thinking to myself. i looked at him who didn't stop glaring. i tried to reason with him, "come on, you being serious right now? what would aera think?"

a smirk rose on his lips, he muttered, "aera's not going to know anything. i'll make sure of it." then instantly, he charged towards me. the knife neared my stomach as he struck but i quickly dodged. i kicked his hand, making the knife clatter on the ground. holding his arms, i pulled him towards me, making his moist breath swarm around my face.

i knew it..he was drunk. his breath reeked of alcohol.

gun pushed me away, throwing another lame punch. i brought my hand up and punched him in the nose. he collapsed to the floor in misery, his face was bruised and sore.

i strolled passed his drunk state, walking towards the exit. looking back, i spoke, "i don't wanna talk about this again." with that, i left him on the marble kitchen floor.

letting the guilt slowly seep into his body as his sober self came back to play.